


Trap (as in Shut Your)

by twowritehands



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: # Hint at a triad with yen because that's canon right?, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Shut Up Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/twowritehands
Summary: Geralt accidentally starts something and has to finish it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Trap (as in Shut Your)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I know it will be difficult, but imagine they HAVEN'T slept together before he found Ciri.
> 
> Set after the apology he has to make to Jaskier after screaming those cruel things to him in the mountains.

Within minutes of the witcher reuniting with the bard, the skies opened up. Torrential downpour turned the world into a white washed haze of falling water.

Geralt, Ciri and Jaskier got the last two rooms in an inn to get out of the storm. In her room, Ciri dried herself off and got under the covers where she promptly fell asleep, feeling she was exactly where she should be. She was with Geralt of Rivia and he would keep her safe.

As she slept, Geralt and Jaskier took the room across the hall. Only one bed. 

Dripping rainwater on the floorboards, Geralt tried to listen for trouble from Ciri's room. This marked the very first time since he found her that she would be out of his sight for longer than a visit to the latrine. He didn't like the way it made him feel on edge.

Jaskier moved around the room talking too much. In fact, the bard was incapable of shutting up. More so than usual. Perhaps noticing the way Geralt stood at the door, listening to the girl's room, Jaskier wondered aloud about Ciri and how the poor thing had escaped Cintra on her own, and then in the same breath, he marvelled at the full force of the thunder and lightning that shook the window panes of their room. And oh look at that, his fine shoes were probably ruined from the soaking they received while rushing through puddles to shelter.

Without prompting, Jaskier launched from the topic of his shoes into the details of what he'd been up to the last couple of weeks since they last saw one another. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time when the Nilfgard army came through and while there had been no outright battle, the bard seemed to think he'd been in mortal peril.

He also met the bold and adventurous second daughter of an Earl and had the pleasure of deflowering her, though he only teased at that fact, refusing to divulge intimate details and simultaneously reprimanding Geralt for asking for said details even though he hadn't.

Oh, and the bard had worked out three quarters of a new song, he only needed to figure out the bridge--

Geralt grunted. Annoyed because he couldn't hear a damn thing about Ciri, so he grabbed Jaskier by the face and kissed him just to stop his lips moving. In the blessed silence, he didn't hear anything from Ciri's room after all. She was well; his nerves settled.

Jaskier was caught off guard, hummed, then melted. They broke apart with hard breaths rushing into the small space between them.

Confused, unsure, timid, with his lips trembling, Jaskier asked, "What was that?"

"To shut you up." Geralt was still listening across the hall, fascinated because he could actually hear her dreams like the rustle of leaves. 

Jaskier trembled now, still weak in his arms as he whispered, "Geralt, please." and came in for another kiss, slow and shy, shivering with pent up desire. Geralt was too surprised to stop it. 

They kissed some more, both going for it. Jaskier practically climbed him like a tree, got Geralt's pants open. He touched Geralt's dick, found it hard and getting wet.

With a gasp, Jaskier sank to his knees. One look at those blue eyes gazing up at him rendered Geralt breathless. With a pleased smile, Jaskier began to worship the magnificent cock.

Slick, hot tongue was enough to wrought a groan from Geralt, but then he slipped incredibly deep. Jaskier's golden throat fluttered around the throbbing head of his dick.

Absolutely weak from the intense, generous pleasure, he couldn't smother his gravelly sounds and worried that Ciri might come in. He cast magic at the door, turned the lock.

Jaskier did not stop. Even when Geralt fisted the hair on the back of his head, the bard only slobbered and laughed as he worked Geralt greedily; a cockslut true and pure.

Geralt got so worked up he growled and manhandled Jaskier onto the bed, bent in half.

Jaskier was pliant, willing, mewling with soft pleas. Geralt's rough hand touched his wet face. Concern burned in golden eyes. "You're crying."

With a hiccup of self consciousness and a weak voice as he twisted away from the touch, Jaskier smiled and hid his eyes, "No. Don't."

Geralt started to retreat but Jaskier stopped him and begged, "Geralt please…. I need you?" 

Unsure if it was a good idea, but certain he must give Jaskier what he needed, Geralt continued prepping him.

They fucked. Geralt stayed in his head, doing what he thought Jaskier wanted, also not comfortable with the princess being in earshot. But he started this, so he had to finish it. 

Jaskier suddenly grew louder, started saying things whores said. Like, "fuck me like you mean it, big guy. Use me"

It sounded fake. Geralt slowed to a stop.

"Really? That's what you want?"

Jaskier arched into him, greedy, trembling again, and his voice was less bold, "I just want you, Geralt. The real you. No matter what it is. T-take it from me."

Geralt felt a spike of want. Now he was positive that this was a Bad Idea but there was no stopping it. He glanced skyward, muttered softly, and then unleashed himself, the cravings of a lonely, heartsore son of a bitch. He went hard and fast because that was what he knew. What he was good at. 

Jaskier wailed into the pillows, hitting high notes and growling low ones, laughing wetly and babbling praise. It was so _Jaskier_ , why was Geralt even surprised? Maybe because he had never bedded someone he knew well enough to recognize sincerity like this. Jaskier was no whore for hire, no enchantress acting on a whim. He was a friend, someone true; here with Geralt, and really enjoying it.

Geralt felt himself emerge from a dried, old chrysalis into warm golden sunshine. Pleasure unfurled to every inch of his body, and beyond. He was soaring. He was free. He was safe. He was seen-- _loved_ \--

He broke. Jaskier was a whimpering mess beneath him, twitching from overuse, mumbling about ruined satin. 

Geralt's mind scrambled. Time was tangled, he didn't know who or what he was, barely knew where he was. His only anchor was the lily white, petal soft ass he was still buried in. Jaskier. 

They separated and began to clean up. 

"Now THAT was worth the wait, darling." Jaskier said brightly. 

Geralt's brows bunched. Something was wrong here. He couldn't tell what... 

Jaskier babbled on about how nothing sorted a bad mood like a good fuck, and Geralt's ecstasy-scattered mind finally made the connection. 

This all sounded fake again. Jaskier was performing for him. 

Why?

The question registered plainly on Geralt's face. Jaskier saw it and did another hiccup, looked away, finally closed his lips. Awkward.

Geralt waited for an answer, letting his Silence demand another, Why?

Jaskier couldn't look at him. "...you must know."

Geralt knew. He wished he didn't. It would be easier. Plus, the things he'd felt as one with Jaskier were too bright and soft to survive in the dark wreck of Geralt's soul for too long. This was a path to doom. But how did they turn back?

"Jask..."

It was heavy between them, that stupid kiss and the way Jaskier had broken open so easily. So beautifully and so, so foolishly. 

The bard made a quick, sharp breath, the kind like when salt touches a wound. "Yeah, mistake. All because I talk too much. I bet _she_ knows when to shut up and save herself." He got dressed quickly.

"Jaskier, don't do this."

"Do what? I'm not a fool, Geralt. I know you and I aren't destined to be, or else..."

"Or?"

Blue eyes flicked away, fingers twitched in the air restlessly. "It would be easier. Wouldn't it?"

Geralt looked out a window. The storm had broken, but the night was still lightless. "Destiny, in my experience, is never easy. In fact, it's the hardest part of it all.... Facing destiny. It makes cowards of us all."

Jaskier had wet eyes and his swallow was loud. His voice started with a crack but grew hard with anger, "then how do I know what is destiny, when it is too hard to stay away from you, but just as hard to be near you when she has you at the end of her string?" his balled fist went to his lips. "Both are unbearable."

Flabbergasted, Geralt lifted his hands to indicate the room, "She isn't even here, bard."

He stood, "Oh but won't she be? Never far away is she? always cropping up to wreak her havoc, have her way, and be gone again. I wish she _was_ here, Geralt. You would never have kissed me, and we wouldn't _be here_." he sounded so regretful, even closed his eyes like he would wake up from all of this.

Geralt was stunned, and a little guilty. "you wanted me to--"

"I wish I had been stronger," Jaskier broke in with conviction that cut like a knife. "As hard as it was to live without you before, I will surely perish when you want nothing of me now."

Geralt's lips parted on a silent gasp. Want nothing of him, after all they had been through together, what they just shared? Geralt could not fathom it. How could Jaskier even think it?

Naked, he left the bed and went to Jaskier, hugged him close, tucked him right beneath his chin.

Jaskier tried to stay rigid and cold but when Geralt nuzzled him, Jaskier melted again. 

"You're... " Geralt had no idea how to voice that feeling from before. An awakening. Or a rebirth. There was only one time in his long, miserable life that he ever felt like that. He found the word and grew a hard lump in his throat. His slow heart thudded a little faster. His voice was rough, "my home, Jaskier."

Jaskier stepped back, eyes open wide now, searching Geralt's face. A happy smile broke across his lips, and just like that he was crying again, soft silent tears. He put his forehead on Geralt's. 

Geralt caressed the nape of his neck.

Yes, home was a fitting word. After finding his child surprise lost in the woods, Geralt had known no where else to go but to his oldest friend, who made the world a better place with nothing but a lute and the nerve to play it for a living.

Geralt steadied his breathing. 

This feeling was the next closest thing to being the bait in a trap. Exposed. Vulnerable. About to die with nothing but a cocksure plan to save your life.

Sometimes, Love could be the deadliest monster.

Jaskier went onto his toes and kissed him until it felt less like a trap, and more like a warm bath. 

Then Jaskier grabbed the lute and sat against Geralt to play it. It was like all the days before, minus the usual space between them.

It was an hour or more before Jaksier paused mid meandering melody. 

"What is she?

"Hm?"

"If I'm your home," his braggy tone made Geralt ache with equal measures of annoyance and fondness, "What is she?"

Geralt took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how to answer this, but then he decided honesty was the best way. 

"Yennifer is... fire." he instantly liked this metaphor. His lips tilted and he elaborated, "She is deadly, dangerous, but an essential part of survival. ...and she certainly keeps you heated."

"Oh ha ha ha, Ger Bear," Jaskier said dryly, but without the usual venom in regards to her, "Very funny..." he sounded distracted. He strummed some chords, hummed a refrain, muttered "home and hearth..."

It was a pretty melody, not too slow, but not quite a jig. The music would be a fine thing for the girl to wake to; to perhaps, one day think of as the sound of home.

Geralt settled back to watch the sunrise, and fell asleep.


End file.
